


Coping Mechanisms

by athousandwinds



Category: Fruits Basket
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-06
Updated: 2010-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athousandwinds/pseuds/athousandwinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ayame's on the phone. Inexplicably, Hatori is listening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coping Mechanisms

"TORI-SAN, I phoned Yuki yesterdaaaaaay and he didn't hang up _immediately_. Aren't you excited, Tori-san? Tori-san? Are you there, Tori-san? And I just got these new silks in from Austria, wouldn't he look adorable in a frilly dress like the one Tohru had? And hand-crafted Italian shoes. I can make my brother look like a _prince_, Tori-san!"

"Princess," says Hatori, his eye beginning to ache. "You mean 'princess'."

He opens a desk drawer, abandoning the receiver on top of his unfilled prescription forms, and sifts through the contents until he finds a bottle of aspirin. Akito might make some sly comment about the dangers of self-medication. He might – _might_ – observe that aspirin once a week or so is hardly going to build up a resistance.

Akito would reply, Don't forget, doctors' wives die young.

Hatori, for all that he has a degree framed in gold leaf on the wall, has never been much good at taking care of anyone or anything. He picks up the phone again and says, "That's nice, Ayame."

Once, he asked Ayame why he bothered. For someone who had the attention span of a magpie, he spent a lot of time making incremental steps towards a stable relationship with Yuki. Hatori has read a lot of books on psychology and abused children. Ayame's doing it wrong.

"Because…" Ayame said, hopeful and faraway. "Today he isn't as hurt as he was yesterday. Tomorrow he won't hate me as much as he did today. And he's worth the wait."

Hatori straightens the pile of forms on his desk, although they don't need it. The forms are three centimetres apart from his fountain pen; the fountain pen is three centimetres away from his appointment book. Everything on Hatori's desk is perfectly spaced. He doesn't even have to look to find what he wants; his hands know the layout better than his eyes. His drawers are labelled: Akito, Yuki, Other on the left side and Notepaper, Office Supplies, Miscellaneous on the right. The only person who might steal anything has a key, anyway. And Hatori knows where he lives.

Everything in Hatori's life is well-organised, to make up for everything that hasn't been. He sits in an office heated to acceptable levels and not one degree more or less. He divides his time between Akito's demands and Shigure's, between Yuki's complaints and Ayame's ecstasies.

"Do you have me marked down for Wednesdays at two o'clock?" Shigure asked. He was smiling, which was to say that his mouth was turned up at the corners and his tone of voice was bright. "Wednesday, two pee emm: endure Shigure. Four pee emm, tell Akito about enduring Shigure."

Hatori isn't usually angry at Shigure. Irritated, yes, but not angry. That's Akito's province. No one else cares enough.

"Tori-san," says Ayame, his voice hushing perhaps a decibel or two. "Tori-san, can I come over?"

Hatori likes the quiet. When it's quiet, he can rearrange his notes or recheck his appointments or even read. When it's quiet, he can think.

Inexplicably, he says, "Yes, all right."

Ayame shrieks with joy and Hatori puts the phone down again, listening to Ayame's paroxysms of delight from a safe distance. Ayame will ruin his concentration as surely as Kana ever had, laughing and clattering through the hall.

He hopes Ayame is right, and Hatori won't hurt as much today. But he doesn't really think so.


End file.
